


free as can be

by holyhoax



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Cliche final line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 06:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhoax/pseuds/holyhoax
Summary: a little drabble about Arthur's kidnapping.





	free as can be

**Author's Note:**

> This is short and dumb and my first time really writing anything but I couldn't get it out of my head after I played the game, so I wrote it. Just know this is NOT torture porn. I do not do that kind of thing. I mostly wrote this to cope because I force personal things onto fictional characters.

Blood has become a permanent fixture in Arthur Morgan's life. Any memory he can think of always conjures up that familiar stain: he saw the red as loved ones died just as he saw it as he took loved ones from others. He's never been a religious man, but everyone knows Karma follows... and boy, has it followed. His teeth dig into the gag, the cotton absorbing the blood from his tongue. His entire body is rigid with discomfort and a burning he knows won't go away for weeks, provided they don't kill him. At this point, he isn't sure which outcome he'd prefer.

 

The ground below cuts the delicate skin of his cheek, each thrust sending an agonizing ache through the bloodied hole in his shoulder, but he shows little to no signs of being affected. He's never been one to give others the reaction they so desperately crave and he won't start now. "Always knew you'd be tight, Arthur Morgan.", is grunted into his ear as the unnamed O'Driscoll finishes and passes him on to the next. Still, he stares ahead, dull gaze catching on a lone blue butterfly. He watches closely as it flutters it's wings and lands on a bloomed flower, as free as can be.

 

-

 

"Arthur Morgan, it's good to see ya.", Colm greets later, looking over his bruised and dangling form. "My boys sure did a number on you, huh? How're your wounds?", the tone is antagonizing and ignites absolutely no urge to return the hostility inside him. "They sure did, Colm, but I hardly feel 'em.", Arthur manages to get out through struggling coughs. Colm is quick to reply, "You will... septic, it ain't nice.". Arthur scowls, but the grimace of pain shines through causing a look of glee to pass over Colm's features. He moves in close, thin lips pulling back in a ghastly grin, "I do wonder how poor old Dutch would feel to know his dear boy was every O'Driscoll's toy, hm?"

 

Arthur grits his teeth, face heating up with a deep shame. "He'll kill you, Colm. You're all gon' be dead!", His pained growl only causes Colm to laugh and gesture with wide-spread arms. "Will he? Cause I don't see him here, Arthur. Seems daddy don't rightly care what happens to you no more." The words hit deep, cause his throat to tighten and a pang of fear to stab through him. "You're wrong, he's comin'. He's comin' and he'll show all of you.", he mumbles quickly, eyes shifting back and forth, looking for any way for him to escape. Colm moves in close again, the rough pads of his fingers dragging down Arthur's cheek. "Denial ain't a good look on someone as pretty as you." And then Arthur is alone again.

 

-

 

He'd escaped with no help. Colm's words stuck with him in the following weeks of aches and slow healing. Arthur wonders if Dutch has noticed he can't bring himself to make eye contact with anyone. He wonders if they know, though knows wondering is pointless seeing how they watched him limp for days. No one has mentioned it, the pity so bright in their eyes it makes Arthur uncomfortable just to be in camp, especially since he's not allowed to leave.

 

The lake gently ripples before him, the birds call out all around him, and little Jack plays with Cain. He's out, he's safe, and he won't be going back. It will take more than a few weeks to heal all the damage, but Arthur can be patient. He stares ahead, clear gaze catching on a lone blue butterfly. He watches closely as it flutters its wings and lands on his outstretched fingers, the both of them as free as can be.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at westernrot & holytwink


End file.
